You and I Will Never Be Nothing
by alyssa-inw0nderland
Summary: '"You and I will never be nothing."' He told her, and beneath her stubbornness, she knew it was true.'/ or based on Victoria Justice's post of where she thought the character's would end up, in which Beck lands a role in a T.V. show and he and Jade break up. A lot better than it sounds. A short lived series of drabbled one shots. Bade. Jori/Cade friendship. Slight BeckxOC
1. Chapter 1

**So this is based on Victoria Justice's post about where she thought the characters would end up, and how she thought Beck would earn a big role in a television show and break up with Jade.**

**I somewhat had a fit of rage with her for saying this, but thought the storyline could be interesting.**

**Like said, short-lived series of drabbled one-shots. Probably 4 chapters at the most.**

**But I promise I'll make it worth your while.**

* * *

He didn't want to do this.

So why the hell was he?

_Because it's the healthy thing for both of you_, a condescending voice echoed within his mind. He hated that voice, commonly refered to as 'The Voice of Reason'. Because the voice was spot on. There was a very good reason for this.

"I want to talk to you," Beck Oliver arrived as he and his serious girlfriend on-and-off for a running total of six years, Jade West, strode back into their cozy little one bedroom, proceeding a celebratory dinner at the nostalgic long time agreed favorite Nozu. The celebration being his return to Los Angeles, finishing a mid season wrap up of his new show that had been filing in the city of New York.

She eased out of her trademark leather jacket and swung it on the nearby red couch, before crashing down on the comforting cushion. "What about?" She asked, her shapen eyebrow raising in response.

Beck bit his lip, and began to make his way over to his girlfriend, and claim a seat, next to her, but quickly decided better of it.

There was an undying lump in his throat, an overpowering pit in his stomach. He ran a nervous hand through his mop of hair, and concluded it was best he remained standing for this. But he was grateful she had chosen to take a seat.

His eyes shifted, involuntarily, searching for objects Jade may soon lunge at him. He subconsciously hoped the his favored lamp on the table arranged next to the couch would survive the conversation.

Jade gazed at him expectantly, and crossed her arms, as she propped her combat boot clad feet up on the coffee table. Right. He should probably say something.

"I just..." Beck swallowed, already choking on his words. He was a brilliant actor-a wiz at memorizing his lines. He could deliver them so believable. But it was true words in real life he so often had troubles with mustering. He wasn't good with words. Not like Jade. An amazing writer.

He quickly attempted to regain his composure as she narrowed her eyes at him, suspiciously.

"I can't do this anymore, Jade." He finally choked out, and instantly regretted it.

'You have to,' that damn voice returned.

The damn voice was correct. Un-fucking-fortunately.

Beck and Jade were hardly together anymore. The flame had sprung from their romance, as he resided in New York for months at a time. They were forced to arrange a schedule, in which they could call each other and take short-lived breaks from their ever busy lives to engage in tiresome conversations about how their days were, how much they missed each other, and other seemingly inconsequential items, all from opposite sides of the country. It was utterly exhausting. When they were together, they would engage in short fits of passion, and then proceed to argue over how little they saw of each other, Jade usually initiating the war, but Beck participating, nonetheless.

He could see the stress wearing on her. The ever permanent bags beneath her emerald eyes, the dark purple color reflecting off her pale skin, that appeared even more translucent than usual. Her hair appeared dry, undone, her makeup sloppy. She was thinner than she had been. His once beautiful, and although angry and seemingly bathing in darkness, and radiating girlfriend, appeared to be quite the opposite as of now. She looked run down. And just so _tired._

It was all because of him.

Because he got his big break. Because he moved and her career didn't allow her to do so. Because he had to live out his dream. He owed it to himself. And she so graciously, yet cautiously, understood that and agreed to hold down the fort in Los Angeles.

He couldn't let her live her life like this. He wouldn't let her seep in depression for a good amount of the year because of him. They needed their lives to start. It shouldn't have to be this way. He was miserable to, although he attempted not to display it.

Beck flashed back to the present, and watched as she peered at him, from the couch, with increasingly sullen looking, yet beautiful eyes. "What?" She finally choked out, keeping her eyes on him. The sadness changed to fear now, and she swung her legs back to the ground, and leaned forward. "What the hell are you talking about, Beck?"

He made his way to her now, setting on the couch beside her. She rotated to face him. "I mean, this." he said, forming hand gestures towards the both of them. "It's exhausting. I'm never here. Our lives shouldn't be this way. It shouldn't be this hard. Not at twenty years old."

His eyes suddenly lingered to her wrist- and the fleshy self-inflicted scars that stained them. He quietly and quickly searched for new ones, out of habit, but found none. Jesus, how had he not thought of this? She'll be all alone here, without him.

Although he attempted to convince himself time after time that he wasn't concerned she'd commit any extreme acts in the midst of their last and most serious of break ups, his inner self knew that was a filthy lie. He constantly had texted Cat to confirm her safety, and requested the redhead to check on her. He'd probably always worry about her. But they were older now. He wasn't a seventeen year old boy anymore, and she wasn't a seventeen year old girl. She, for one, had matured sufficiently since their days of high school. And he knew-well, he hoped with every bit of himself- that she could find healthier ways to manage pain.

The tears began to prod at his eyes. Beck Oliver didn't cry. He just simply didn't. The only person who had ever withheld enough effect on him to make him cry was Jade West. He'd only ever cried over her. And it had never been her fault. Only his foolishness that had caused the sadness. He mentally kicked himself for the whole damn situation, and desperately looked within himself for there to be any other way.

Hurt spread from her irises to her whole face now, and Beck felt sick to his stomach.

"But-" Her breathing was growing increasingly heavy, and he watched as her eyes began to shine, but not from the utter brightness that had always lurked beneath their beauty, but from tears. Tears that he had caused. "We can, we can make it work." She whispered. "We always do."

Jade West was completely out of character, he realized. She had been for quite some time, at least the times he had been around. She hadn't even bothered to pick a fight with him this visit. She wasn't a force of nature like she once was. And he knew that she was simply tired. Life was taking its toll on her. The sleepless nights waiting up for his call had affected her. He wondered how often she cried herself to sleep over him, but hastily decided not to flatter himself so much.

Jade was an impeccable actress, but she wasn't acting right now. Even though he had constantly reminded her she never had to pretend with him, he knew a part of her always had, involuntarily. She was uncomfortable with letting people in. Her parents were mostly to blame for that flaw. But he'd always understood, regardless. She was broken, and he didn't mind it, because he knew he would always get the most out of her she was willing to give. And that had been more than enough for his heart to swell with undying love for the girl.

She nearly began to hyperventilate when he reached over and placed a hand on hers, while shaking his head, and murmuring. "No, babe. We can't. You know we can't. This just isn't working out."

"So that's it?!" She snapped, reappointing the inner fire he knew had been lurking beneath the surface, a rebuttal that screamed 'Jade', and made this hurt all the hurt all the more.

"Six years and nothing to show." She breathed, breaking his gaze and turning her head away.

But he lurched forward, and forced her to look at him, placing both hands on either side of her cheek.

"You and I will never be nothing." He told her. And beneath her stubbornness, she knew it was true

And she was sobbing now. This soundless cry that was of true sorrow. And it took him a minute to realize he was, as well.

Before either of them had truly realized, his head had collapsed into the crevice between her neck and shoulder, and they held each other. And then their bodies intertwined, and their clothing quickly became scarce, until it was discarded onto the floor, and they made their way to the bedroom.

The two stayed up the majority of the night talking and taking solace in the other's body, a farewell of the home they had known for so long. They talked, as well, and with that, cried, until they could no longer cry, and fell asleep within the safe confines of each other's arms.

But the morning sun eventually emerged, and Jade said in the smallest voice her lover had ever heard from her, "You should probably go."

And he did.

* * *

It had been days since she'd heard his voice.

Jade West had forced herself from her safe haven, or her bed, merely hours prior. She allowed herself a grievance, and pulled a disappearing act from the remainder of the world. But this morning-for whatever reason, she simply made the decision to halt her pathetic-ness, and emerged from her bedroom.

The apartment they'd shared naturally reeked of Be-HIM, and she fucking hated it. Every little thing reminded her of him, in some aspect, and it triggered her desire to retreat back to her bedroom. But she attempted to fight it, and journeyed to the microscopic pantry.

She should eat. She hadn't consumed much more than countless glasses of wine or whiskey in a series of days.

Although she hadn't been eating much since Beck's previous set of absences, her stomach growled with discontenment, and perhaps food would fill some type of void.

After rummaging through the cabinets for several minutes, she settled on Ramen noodles, with a disapproving sigh. She freed the uncooked noodles of the packaging, and proceeded to cook it in the microwave, not able to muster the motivation to cook her meal on the stove.

She swooped her unkept, disheveled raven colored locks into a messy ponytail, and propped herself up on the countertop, as she awaited the 'ding' of the microwave that would declare the noodles.

Jade scrolled through the series of text messages she'd received in the last few days. She hadn't performed the most efficient job of replying to any, although she'd felt guilty for disregarding Cat's.

She, idly, read through them, and swung her feet, absent mindedly. They consisted of several "Are you okay?'"s, "I'm so sorry"s, and what have you. Deciding her best friend, who only ever meant well, was possibly sick with worry for her, she hastily replied. Her thumbs drummed on the screen of her Pear Phone at a lesser of a brisk pace than they typically would, Jade finding herself bored with the task before she'd even begun.

_"Sorry, Cat. Didn't see these. I will be fine. Thanks."_

Forever hiding her emotions, flashing a fake smile-or more appropriately, grimace. That was the Jade West way.

She found herself emersed in her never ending thoughts before the interruption of the microwave's incessant beeping yanked her from her mind, and back to reality, and her noodles. She dropped from the counter, and slightly stumbled, as she flipped the microwave door open, and took out the noodles.

The steaming bowl burnt her hands, but she couldn't get herself to care. Setting it down on the stove, and retrieving the flavor packet, she further began to prepare the food.

But, sure enough, her eyes lurked to the picture plastered on the refrigerator door only several feet to the right. A photograph of her and Be-_him_, an uncanny grin resting on his perfect features, and an uncharacteristic mid-laugh smile on hers. The picture was a surprise, taken by Cat Valentine, capturing a rare moment Jade had actually indulged her friends and laughed at one of their ill-put jokes.

She'd been angry at him for selecting that picture to post on the fridge.

She'd spent far too much of her time being angry at him. And it was hardly ever deserved.

It was moments like these when she was willing to take it all back, to silence her inner pride, and, withdraw every petty argument they'd ever had, each cruel thing she'd ever said to him.

Biting down on her lip, she continued to stir the noodles, as she reviewed events that had occurred within the last several months in her head. Subconsciously, a part of her had known that when he got that part, that she'd be losing him. Some section of her had always prepared to lose him. Girls like her were hardly ever loved forever. She knew she wouldn't be an exception. Jade was all too familiar with the loss. But it was somewhat sprung on her when he received that role.

The starring role on his very own television show. The role of a lifetime. His big break. Who the hell was she to tell him not go?

He'd offered not to go, to pass it up, when it had been revealed that he would have to leave, to travel to New York to film the show. But she couldn't-she wouldn't, tell him no. She couldn't have him end up eventually resenting her for forcing him to pass up his dream. She knew, all too well, he would never do that to her.

Uninvited thoughts traveled within the midst of her thoughts, linking to him, what he was currently doing, having returned to New York. She wondered if the events included his pretty cast mate that the media constantly roared with rumors regarding her and him's secret love aware.

Her stomach rolled, and she didn't truly know if she was hungry anymore, having stirred the remnants of the flavor packet into the microwave-cooked noodles.

But she decided to eat it, regardless, and lazily retreated back to her bedroom, hot bowl in hand.

She collapsed onto her bedroom, and was suddenly overwhelmed with his aroma. She shut her eyes, and sighed, reaching for the comforter to pull to her face. She breathed in his scent, and several tears rolled down her porcelain cheeks. The events of the break up continued to play on loop in her head. She thought of the words he said. She wished so much she could get something to silence them. Alcohol and sleep proved not to be efficient. Jade, inwardly groaned, and rolled over, forcing her face into her pillow.

Even more than the desire to silence the thoughts, she wished for something else to silence the following thoughts, that Beck had been right.

And perhaps he had been right, that they couldn't continue to live like this. But it didn't make it hurt any less.

God, it fucking hurt.

* * *

**So I kind of hate myself for writing this. But I was in a depressed mood today, and just sort of couldn't stop thinking about it. **

**I hope you guys enjoy it, anyway. Please review and tell me what you think. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Just wanted to clarify that although this is under the category of a tragedy and Jade will slip up a bit throughout the story, it will not end in her death. This is a Bade story, and I promise now this will end in a somewhat happy ending.**

* * *

It wasn't until she looked into the betraying glass of the mirror that she realized the yellowing bruises, that had once been a deep pink and purple, that he'd left on her skin began to fade away, that she felt as if she didn't know whether or not she would ever feel whole again.

It wasn't until she'd broke the thin barrier of sanity slipped away and she decided to cut herself open again that she realized she despised the smell of him.

It wasn't until her vision blurred, and the smell decreased, that she realized she'd bled all over their sheets, tainting the white a rusted red color.

It wasn't until her blood had soaked through to the mattress's core that she thought it may be time for a new bed, that she made the rash decision.

And it wasn't until Jade West witnessed their bed go up in flames that she realized she'd made a mistake.

Her new bed was stiff and squeaky. It didn't smell of Beck. She hadn't held him on this mattress. They hadn't fallen asleep countless nights, entangled in one another's limbs, on this mattress. But then, she hadn't cried herself to sleep in wake of their relationship on this new bed. Not yet, anyway.

There were three swift knocks at her door that Friday evening. Jade lay in her new bed, unsure if she was unable to move, or simply didn't desire to. Dried tears and dried blood had set into her skin, leaving her feeling sticky, and somewhat itchy. An old film was on, although she'd muted the television. She watched it, in depth, unwanting to tear her eyes away from the screen, even though she didn't obtain the slightest idea of what was going on. The storyline was dramatic. Quite a bit of what appeared could be singing or just painfully slow dialogue, Jade wasn't sure. Or perhaps it was a silent film. The black and white picture on her screen flickered ever so often, the quality of the movie failing.

The knocker pursued, but Jade ignored them, knowing eventually said knocker would catch her hint and leave. She wasn't in the mood for company. To say the least. Suddenly, a startling _crack_ sounded through the apartment. Jade shot up, rising from her bed clad in merely a tank top, laced panties, and silk bathrobe, all of which were black. She peered passed her cracked bedroom door, searching for the identity of the intruder. To her bewilderment, a determined looking Cat Valentine swung the door open, and strode into her bedroom.

"Cat, what the hell?!" Jade breathed, rising her pale arm to her chest, in an attempt to steady her racing heartbeat.

Cat gave her a once-over and wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Get dressed, Jade. We're going out. I'm not letting you sulk anymore." It was the most threatening tone that the petite redhead had ever uttered-to the usually rather threatening, herself, Jade, at least.

The taller girl continued to stare at her, uncharacteristically dumbfounded. "Did you break my door down?" She asked, moving to the foyer area of the microscopic apartment, to confirm her suspicions.

"Yes," Cat answered, seemingly bored, taking hold of her best friend's shoulders, and leading her back to the bedroom. "Now,_ get dressed_." She ordered, before leaning in to take a whiff of the raven haired girl. "But _oh God_, you'll have to shower first." She directed her towards the bathroom now. "Go. Hurry."

"But," Jade protested, keeping her eyes on Cat. "You're so small. How the hell did you break my door down?" She questioned, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Cat rolled her brown eyes, in exasperation. Typically, the roles were reversed. Cat had always been the ditsier, more sheltered one, that Jade had to assist, irritation potent within her throughout the task.

"Just go," Cat hissed, shoving the bathroom door closed.

"You better not be taking me to a fucking club," Jade seethed from the passenger seat. "And I don't know why you insisted on driving. I always drive."

Cat groaned into the steering wheel. "Just hush. We're going to a bar."

"Thank the fucking Lord." the darker haired friend muttered, resting her head onto the base of the cool window.

"You curse like a sailor." Cat giggled. Ah, there. Some of the old, beloved Cat splashed a hint of light into the whole kidnapping situation.

Although Cat never left behind her bubbly and sweet persona, she had definitely matured throughout her college years. She abandoned her cluelessness in high school. Part of Jade wished she'd left Robbie Shapiro along with it. But three years had passed, and the seemingly strange relationship was as strong as ever.

"You know how I can't stand those barely legal, orange, blonde bimbos who end every sentence with 'woo.' and sip their fruity drinks and grind on strangers." She recoiled, her tone flat, as she gazed out the passenger's side window, the city lights flashing obnoxiously. LA nightlife was not Jade's scene. Not at all.

"I do. Which is why we're going to a dive bar, where skeevy middle aged drunken men will hopefully get US drunk off hard liquor, _not_ fruity drinks, in some diluted hope that we'll end up getting home with them."

Jade couldn't help but smirk as Cat recited almost precisely what Jade rambled each time anyone whined about her dragging them to a bar of her choice, rather than some overrated, obnoxious night club, minus the incessant cursing.

But the short-lived smirk disappeared from her expression as her eyes caught a young couple walking the boulevard, hand in hand. The woman laughed, leaning into her lover's shoulder, as he chuckled along with her. They appeared so young, so carefree, so in love. But it then occurred to Jade that they were probably within the range of her own age. She squinted at herself in the mirror. The bags beneath her made up eyes caused her to frown. She almost didn't recognize the girl staring back at her. When did she start feeling so damn old?

The tingle didn't begin to set in until she had downed her third whiskey.

The night carried on and heavy drinking ensued. As the hours passed, the middle-aged drunks, and forty-something tramps, who still dressed as if they were in their twenties, dispersed, the girls remained at their booth, setting across from each other, and remained ordering drinks. Jade refused any of "that heart-to-heart girly bullshit" and as they drenched their blood in alcohol, their conversation thinned. So they sat, with the absence of sound, sipping their drinks, and staring at one another from opposite sides of the booth. Cat would frown at Jade's wrists subsequently, and each time, Jade would glower at her, as if it were a challenge for her to say something. And eventually she did.

"Are we really doing this again, Jade?" She asked. Her tone gave off an attempt of austerity, though her eyes displayed blatant sadness.

Jade shrugged, and studied her chipped nails, as if she were bored. But really, she was ashamed. So ashamed and embarrassed of her bad habits that it became difficult to look her best friend in the eye.

Although their mouths had been previously been silent, Jade's mind was in shambles. She couldn't halt her frequent thoughts. And unfortunately, they all seemed to be traced back to that ex-boyfriend of hers. How she always knew he would end up leaving her. And the feeling was utterly treacherous. The thought alone, that he proved her right, was enough to trigger the oh-so-familiar tightening of her throat and moisture to her eyes. But it was proof enough to make her laugh, also. The bitter taste of alcohol lingered in her mouth, and began a journey to travel throughout her veins. She was just intoxicated enough to smile at the irony she was too cowardly to point out.

"_We're_ not doing anything." A rebuttal to an argument Cat hadn't even started. Jade was defensive. When she raised her head up, her emerald irises turned to ice. "And besides, I think I'm entitled to one fuck up...considering..." But she couldn't bring herself to finish that sentence.

"Looks like a lot more than one."

Jade bit down harshly on the inside of her cheek, staring down at her beverage, with half-lidded eyes. Cat placed a steady hand atop of Jade's, of which she realized had begun to shake uncontrollably.

"I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but things will be okay eventually." Her sing-song voice was nearly sickening. Jade kept her eyes focused on the drink, half-consumed, her blurred vision causing the cup to appear to be swaying; although it remained still on the booth table.

Jade laughed a cold chuckle that lacked humor. "Oh, right. Of course it will." A roll of her eyes. "Look, I know everything is peachy fuckin' keen, all sunshine and rainbows, in Cat Valentine's world, but out here, in the real world, it's a lot dimmer." It was as if venom rolled off her quick tongue, her tone so cruel.

The sullen girl's best friend frowned at her. But she wouldn't jump to sudden dramatics. Her overly sensitive side was abandoned along with her ditziness. Her comment still stung, more than she'd like to admit. But Jade was hurting. She was hurting and she was drunk, and although she would never admit she needed the presence of anyone, Cat knew all too well that she needed her now. Perhaps she refused Cat's motivational pep-talks, or teary heart-to-hearts. But she needed something. And if it were getting drunk, and taking jabs at her best friend in order for her to feel a tinge better, then so be it.

She remained silent, and Jade blinked at her. After a moment, she ripped her hand away and chugged the remainder of her drink. They'd lost count of what number they'd been on hours ago. Cat glanced away from her, and redirected her attention momentarily to a television that hung high on the wall. It was the time of night when nearly all that played was infomercials.

"Have you talked to him?" A hoarse voice asked. It had slipped out before Jade could think better of it. Her drunken brain, in shambles, refusing to filter the words that uttered from her clumsy lips.

"Yes, not much."

"How is he?" Jade asked, though she wasn't certain whether or not she wanted the answer.

A pause. Cat wore a consistent frown. "He was sad." She admitted. "He wanted to know how you were."

Jade swallowed the lump forming in her throat. Speaking of him was so much, too much.

"And what'd you tell him?"

Cat gnawed on her stained pink lips. "I told him you were sad." She took a deep, shaky, breath, and Jade wondered if she was about to cry, herself. "But I told him you would be okay. I told him you were strong."

And with that, the sobs unleashed from Jade's fragile frame. She was shaking violently, waterfalls of tears escaping from her eyes, black makeup running down her now flushed cheeks. She hunched over and buried her head within the confines of her folded arms, hiding away, longing more than ever to disappear.

Suddenly, she felt a wavering presence above her, then beside her. Cat was in the seat of her booth now, wrapping gentle arms around her. "Jade," she cooed repeatedly, stroking her hair, attempting to calm her.

"You lied, Cat. You lied." She choked out between frequent sobs, and faltering breaths. "I'm not strong." And she cried harder, burying her head into the warmth of Cat's chest. "I'm not strong." She repeated.

Cat continued to stroke her hair, rubbing her hands up and down Jade's bare arm.

"No, no." She whispered softly, whilst shaking her head. "I didn't. You're the strongest person I know, Jadey."

It was easy for all of her friends to convince her they were there for her. To take her out and coddle her, and repeatedly tell her everything was going to be okay. 'In time' they would say.

It was simple enough to find an array of tasks to perform in the hours of the daylight. To keep herself busy, so busy that hopefully his godforsaken name wouldn't appear in her head. Although, it always did.

It was effortless to pour herself into her writing. To focus on her plays and her studies and her part time job at the record store to chase the sadness away. She'd always done this. Concentrate on the things she loved, or even somewhat tolerated, to avoid those that she hated.

But it was the treacherous hours of the night that became the hardest. It was when she was forced to return to her small, empty apartment, no supportive friends by her side. When she had no class to obtain her attention. No hours at the record store to keep her fiddling away with customers and organizing. No sleep to keep her occupied. Because she couldn't sleep. She'd lie awake, and painfully ponder each regret. And it didn't help that each time she obtained the seemingly difficult task of falling asleep, it was only him that she dreamt of.

Jade had always wished that sometimes she could turn her brain off, for it was constantly riveting, thinking a million and two thoughts all at once, never just _shutting up_. She couldn't help but realize she was alone, then. No body to form to hers as she drifted to her slumber. No one to play with her hair, or hum a sweet lullaby to. No soul to keep her company during her most anxious time of day. Beck wasn't there for her to wake up to.

And he never would be again.

Jade took several steps onto the campus grounds, and suddenly a pit of nostalgia rose within her chest. She remembered her freshman year of college. Hand in hand with Beck, as they took their first steps into their new life together. Originally, the gang had all planned to attend college at California State together. Jade planned to major in theatrical arts, with a smidge of English, and creative writing. Beck was continuing to pursue his never-dying dream of becoming a successful actor, and wanted to major in theatre. Cat's plan consisted of design. She'd originally wished to travel farther to attend a school that focused essentially on designing. But this was pre-Robbie, who desired to major in both music and theatre. And when Robbie _and_ Jade had announced they'd be attending CSULA, they'd already made her decision for her. Tori Vega invested all of her time into her music career, and wished to focus on that, much like Andre Harris.

Beck and Jade loved CSULA. It was relatively close to the one bedroom apartment they'd invested in over summer break. The classes were difficult, yet spectacular. Their high school best friends, although Jade continued to insist the majority of them were _not _her friends, were there, as well. And they had each other. The adjustments from high school to college were supposed to be so much more heart-wrenching. They'd both felt so exponentially lucky, for life to have fallen into place like this. They'd successfully left their old lives behind with a lack of tragic goodbyes.

If only that Jade could have imagined how ignorant she was.

She didn't have a morning class that day, but she normally made an appearance to have lunch with her friends on campus, regardless, and if she didn't today, suspicions would arise. And she couldn't have that, now could she?

Cat's expression immediately brightened once Jade took a seat at the friends' outdoor table, which truly was not much different than their beloved Asphalt Cafe. She gave her friend a brief hug, before Jade eventually shook her off. Andre, Tori, and Robbie took turns bidding her sympathetic smiles.

Jade sneered at them. "Okay, if you all are going to continue giving me those fucking 'lost puppy' looks, I am _not _having lunch with you." She deadpanned, growling.

"We're not, we're not. Right, guys?" Cat convinced her, giving the remainder of their friends somewhat threatening glares. As threatening as Cat could be.

"Right," they all murmured simultaneously.

The redhead smiled, and shoved a tray of food in Jade's direction. "I got you a burrito."

"Not really that hungry," She grimaced at the food, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Cat frowned deeply, and Robbie placed a reassuring arm on her shoulder.

Tori sat on Jade's other side, and her sympathetic stare didn't cease. Jade glared at her.

"Vega." She warned, turning slightly to her direction.

Since their high school days, Jade and Tori had grown sufficiently closer. Meaning they weren't constantly amped to kill each other, (Jade, at least.) The youngest Vega had never been the most aggressive. Although in the days of the teenager years, Jade had found Tori extremely irritating, and even would admit to hate her, they kept up a civil front, perhaps even a bit of a friendship. Tori was still seemingly annoying to the darker haired girl at times, but there were far less attempted murders.

"I'm so sorry, Jade." Tori muttered, with a frown, hinting her sympathy didn't end at the stare. "I am." She hesitantly placed a hand on Jade's shoulder.

"God," She rolled her eyes, and coldly shook the hand off. "Just _stop_."

"She's stopping." Andre piped in, from Tori's other side. "We're just...we're your friends, Jade. We want to make sure you're okay."

"I'll be fine," She insisted, aggravated, although she, herself, was wondering if it were true.

Really, she was the complete opposite. Everything reminded her of Beck, everything. And so everything pissed her off, and when she was done being pissed off, she was simply sad. And the confines of her stomach would lurch tremendously. It seemed cruel and sick to her—that one's life could alter so much so quickly. That everything she thought she had known seemed like a filthy lie now.

She thought it was fucked, really, the way that it soothed her to cut violently into her skin. Self-mutilation seemed beautiful alone in the dark within the confines of her apartment. But when the sleeves of her sweater accidentally pulled up in public, she felt ashamed. Her cheeks would blush.

Jade felt she had to hide her cutting from her friends—as if it were some type of flaw. She was embarrassed of the cuts and scars that stained her forearms. But she couldn't stop. Each night, as her tears would come out, as would her blade.

"Jade, wait up!" Pounding of sneakers assaulted the pavement, of none other than Tori Vega's, following an afternoon class one day.

But Jade didn't wait. She didn't halt the quick pace of her long legs as she made her way to the large parking lot, in search of her car.

"Jade!" The girl pleaded, remaining several strides away.

But still, she walked in the opposite direction.

She idly dug through her messenger bag, grazing the contents for her keys, when an out of breath and somewhat sweaty Tori appeared to her right.

"Why didn't you wait?! Didn't you hear me calling you?" she demanded, attempting to catch her breath.

Jade simply shrugged, and continued her journey.

Tori sighed. "Look, I wanted to see if you wanted to do something tonight."

A once studded eyebrow arose at the brunette's request.

"Like, go out." Tori clarified.

Jade narrowed her piercing green eyes. "Tori Vega, are you asking me out on a _date_?"

"No!" She fidgeted with her t-shirt, tugging it downward. "I just," she groaned. "Look, we can do whatever you want. I just- I need to get out of my house, and I figured you did, too."

Although it was oh-so-tempting, Jade couldn't deny that. And she couldn't hide away and take up the role of a hermit for all of eternity. It had been weeks since Beck had left. She couldn't put her life on pause to mope.

So, as Jade approached her car, and pressed down on her automatic key to unlock the driver's side, she turned to the girl that would stand about her height if it weren't for Jade's combat boots. "Fine. My place, 9:00."

Before Tori could reply, Jade retreated into her car, and quickly sped away from campus.

Tori arrived around 8:58 P.M., not much to Jade's surprise. The girl was punctual, to say the least. Jade lazily approached her door, when the uncommon rapping sounded throughout her apartment. She swung it open, and smirked a small smirk at her makeshift companion for the night.

Draped on her lightly tanned shoulders was a sparkly red halter top, hanging loosely, exposing a bit of the girl's cleavage. On her bottom half, she wore skin tight jeans that hugged her hips in all the right ways and heeled black boots. Her hair was wavy, and makeup slightly darker than usual.

And Tori smiled back at Jade's smirk, admiring the raven haired girl.

Jade wore a miniscule black tank top that displayed her prominent pale hipbones, a slither of ivory stomach, and of course her busty, milk-colored chest. She wore a straight black skirt that ended just above mid-thigh, that made her ass look impeccable, paired with her red combat boots. Her signature curls were looser than usual, with heavy lined eyes.

"Am I dressed okay?" Tori asked, still smiling. "I didn't know where we were going."

The smirk didn't fade from Jade's face, either. "You're perfect."

Jade didn't do night clubs. It was no secret. So Tori was expecting some dive bar that was just trashy enough to serve minors.

But she had to admit she was surprised when Jade pulled up to the record store she worked at part time, parked, and rid the ignition of her keys.

She shot Jade a questioning look. "Um?"

"Get out of the car." She ordered, already standing on the curb, and slammed her door behind her.

Tori complied, and for the second time that day, attempted whole-heartedly to catch up with the she-hurricane that was Jade West.

The lights of the surprisingly large record store flashed on in a sequence. Tori gazed around, taking in her environment. She'd never been inside the building, but had waited in the car outside several times with Cat and Beck when they had picked Jade up from work, while her car was in the shop.

As she inspected the place, noting the wide variety of vintage records and players, she noticed Jade had disappeared. Panic suddenly arose in her throat.

"Jade?" she called, unease filling her about being under the heat of the multiple fluorescent lights in her lonesome.

Jade reappeared several minutes later, emerging from the back of the store, bottle of Vodka in hand. "Raiding the manager's stash," she smiled, displaying the bottle as proof.

"That's where you were," Tori exhaled.

The darker haired girl smirked. "Where'd you think I went?"

"I-I don't know." Tori stammered.

Jade rolled her emerald eyes, and poured two shots. "Drink up," she purred, attempting to ignore the half Latina's nervous demeanor.

Her chocolate brown eyes rested on the shot glass, uneasily.

Jade groaned.

"Vega, calm down. It's just a drink," she hissed, and tipped hers back without so much of a cringe.

Tori hesitantly picked up the glass and held it tightly in her sweaty palms. Jade kept her eyes on her, wondering what was so intimidating about one shot. Of course, it was to sheltered little Tori Vega, who was twenty years old, and remained living with her overbearing parents. Jade's absent mind drifted and questioned if the girl had ever even been drunk.

She gulped down the shot painfully slowly, and displayed a disgusted expression, which only induced a smile across Jade's face.

Several shots later, Jade had taken upon herself to start playing old records, and found herself pulling Tori down from her sitting position on the counter top, and somewhat forcing her into a dance.

Jade threw her head back, and embraced her free spirit feeling, rocking her hips to the blaring beat of the song. She closed her eyes, and tugged Tori closer.

Suddenly, she felt the smaller hips of Tori's grinding against hers. _Damn, _Jade's inner monologue admitted, _drunken Tori is blunt._

If there had been one doubt in Jade's mind that Tori was drunk, all had been clarified as she opened her eyes, and took one glance into Tori's blood shot irises.

They grinded to the beat of a rock song, Jade suddenly finding her hands tangled in Tori's chestnut locks, and Tori's hands wandering around Jade's waist area.

She could only decipher how much time was passing by how many songs had played. She attempted to keep track, but admittedly, found her brain function wavering as she continued to buck her hips to the beat and the girl bumping against her.

A steamed wave of pleasure rose beneath her as Tori's leg rubbed against her core, roughly. She stifled a short moan. It'd been a while since someone touched her there. And as, the rubbing enhanced, becoming harder and harder, a hand snaked downward between her legs. And when she gazed up and she saw lust within Tori's eyes, she felt herself pulling away.

A sound of displeasure left Tori's mouth. She stared at Jade with questioning eyes.

"I'm not near drunk enough for this." She answered, coldly.

In all reality, she probably was. Her pounding head didn't taunt her for nearly giving into Tori. But her body and heart recoiled against someone else's touch. Perhaps, it was too soon.

Jade huffed at herself, being too fragile for even a drunken one night stand. Pathetic, she told herself she was, utterly pathetic.

Although it was well into the hours of the early morning, and Jade offered to allow her to stay the night, but Tori denied and requested vigorously that she take her home.

Jade sighed, and leaned forward to turn on the radio, as Tori turned away and she suspected that she was crying. Although, in the past her motives weren't exactly friendly, tonight wasn't about hurting her frenemy. It was simply about blowing off steam.

She found herself lingering in the driveway of the Vega residence as Tori walked up to her front porch, making sure she got inside safely. Typically, Jade had only done that with Cat, back before her best friend had gotten her license, not to display that she cared, but because she genuinely did. She wondered what it meant that even though she was drunk, and unaware of her actions, she was concerned with Tori's safety.

The harsh light of day filled Jade's bedroom through her dark curtains. She groggily opened her eyes, and instantly regretted it. The brightness assaulted her pupils and she immediately slammed them shut for several more minutes, hoping they would readjust. She cautiously fluttered them open again, and lazily flipped over so that she could look at the clock.

It read _9:45_ in taunting little red numbers. _Shit._ She was over fifteen minutes late for Walsh's class, one of her most scrutinizing professor's.

As she flipped out of bed, and attempted to get ready in a rush, she noticed the oh-so-familiar pounding of her head and cursed herself for her activities the night before.

She raced to school, switching lanes and zooming around cars that's speed wasn't to her liking, like a madwoman.

She flung the door open of the lecture hall at 10:00 on the dot, and all eyes were on her.

"Nice of you to join us, Miss West." Professor Walsh hissed from her podium.

Jade resisted the urge to flip her off, and settled for a nod, and a murmured "Sorry," as she took a seat by herself.

She immediately laid her head down, and attempted to listen to the lecture over 'the correct way to kill of a main character' which typically would've been extremely interesting to her, if she could just get her head to stop pounding.

Someone took a seat next to Jade, and she didn't bother to look up to clarify the identity of her company. It had been several days since the record store incident, and recalling the way Tori had looked at her as if she'd just murdered a puppy, she didn't think the brunette would come crawling back to her so soon.

"Jade," Tori shook her, as the lecture droned on.

"Shh," Jade winced at her shrill voice. "No talking." She moaned.

"Are you hung-over?" She asked, her eyes widening.

Jade grimaced, and attempted to set up, and glare at her, before allowing her head to fall back onto the makeshift desk.

"It's Monday morning, Jade."

"Thank you. I am aware." She mumbled, against her arm, and shut her eyes.

She didn't re-open them until the class had been dismissed. Jade gathered her items, and filed out of the classroom, Tori quick on her heels.

"Jade," Professor Walsh called. "Can I speak with you a moment?"

"Uh, yeah." Jade answered.

"I'll wait outside." Tori announced, and Jade stifled an eye roll.

She walked over to the eery professor's podium. "Look, I'm sorry about being late this morning,"

"This isn't about that, Miss West. But I appreciate your apology." She cut her off.

"Oh, okay…"

"I actually wanted to talk to you about the state of Mr. Oliver's enrollment in this University."

Jade nearly winced.

Beck's original plan was to stay enrolled and attempt to finish school, along with his starring role. This was when they weren't certain if the show would prove successful or not. He'd still enrolled and attended school for a brief time at the beginning of his junior year.

"What about it?" Jade's mouth was extremely dry, and she felt uncharacteristic beads of sweat forming on the small of her back.

"Forgive me to ask, but I was aware you two were…involved."

Jade could only nod, dumbfounded.

"Do you know if Mr. Oliver is planning to return to school sometime this spring?"

She narrowed her eyes, suddenly very irritated by the excess of questions.

"Why are you asking me this?"

"Because Miss West," the Professor continued on, matter of fact-ly, un-phased by her student's harsh tone. "Headmaster Burke sent me the paperwork this morning for his withdrawal from this school. I figured you would know best." There was a gleam of amusement in her eyes at Jade's expression.

And Jade couldn't stomach the woman's menacing stare for any longer. "I think we're done here." She spat, and didn't await an answer from her teacher before fleeing the classroom.

She ditched the rest of her classes that day, much to Cat's dismay, who sent her disapproving texts throughout the afternoon, claiming she thought she'd been getting better and she needed to keep up with her studies, all of which caused Jade to roll her eyes, and grow too angry to reply.

Heartbroken and bed-ridden, she lay there, in her extremely lump-y bed, idly watching television, sipping on a mug of coffee in an attempt to nurse her hangover.

She wasn't delusional. They'd broken up, and although it killed her to admit it, it was for several good reasons. But hearing it out loud, that he was dropping out of school, with such a certainty that he wasn't coming back? That had slayed her.

Drifting in and out of consciousness throughout the day, she wasn't entirely sure it was real when she heard a subtle knocking on her door. Then, when she'd established it _was_ real, she figured it was simply Cat again to break her out of her funk, and that she'd eventually break the door down.

But the incessant knocking continued, and with a long and dramatic groan, she got up to answer it.

Tori Vega stood in her doorway for the second time that week. Although, this time, she'd brought Chinese food, so Jade allowed her to come in with not much of a protest.

Earlier that day, after she'd fled the classroom, Tori, who'd heard the entirety of Jade's conversation with Walsh, attempted to catch up to her and speak to her about it. But she disregarded all of Tori's pleas, and refused to speak to her.

Jade silently shut the door and allowed Tori to sit. "You like California rolls, right?" She asked, beginning to take the food from the bags and prepare it for the two girls.

Jade sat and eyed the food. It _did _appear to be halfway decent Chinese food.

So they ate in silence, and as Jade shoveled vegetable Lo Mein into her mouth, she felt Tori's watching eyes on her, and saw from the corner of hers' that there was a smile plastered on her face.

"Glad I brought you some food. You seem pretty hungry," She laughed and Jade shot her a glare.

"Would you _shut up?_ I haven't eaten all fucking day."

Tori leaned forward, her arm extending to her face, and Jade flinched.

"You got a lil' something." She smiled, and Jade frowned, as Tori wiped her mouth of a stray piece of noodle.

And although she attempted to keep a glower, as Tori's laugher filled the small kitchen, she couldn't help but laugh lightly, as well.

And then she was laughing hysterically, to the point where she couldn't see straight.

And then she realized it was because her eyes were welling up in tears.

And then she was crying hysterically, and a pair of arms tangled her into an embrace, and she was too exhausted to fend them off.

"I'm just so tired." She breathed, after several minutes.

Tori suggested after several more minutes that they watch _The Scissoring_, Jade's favorite movie.

She agreed with a quiet "Okay," and they shuffled to the couch in the living room.

Half-way through the film, of which they'd watched speaking few words to one another, Tori turned to her. "Look, about the other night," she started, but Jade cut her off.

"This is my favorite part," she murmured to her, as a girl was brutally murdered with a pair of scissors. Her pale skinned was stained with remnants of black tears.

"It was stupid; I was drunk—and stupid,"

Jade groaned, "Do you _ever _stop talking?"

"I'm trying to be serious here."

Now, a sigh. "Don't worry about the other night, Tori, its fine."

"No, it's not fine. We were drunk and I just—I don't want you thinking I was trying to take advantage of you."

Jade scoffed. "_You _take advantage of_ me?_ Please, Vega, spare me."

Tori attempted to hide the blatant hurt on her tanned face. "Look, whatever. Let's just watch the movie."

"That _was _the original plan." Jade shot back, not missing a beat.

Releasing a sigh, Tori got up from the couch, pulling her jacket back on over her shoulders.

"Maybe I should just go."

A crease appeared between Jade's full eyebrows. She paused the movie, and stood up, as well. "What do you mean 'go'"? She asked, intimidatingly.

"I should go. You obviously don't want me here." Tori countered, throwing her arms up in the air. Her voice raised several octaves into a somewhat irritating sheer tone.

The darker haired girl let out a long sigh, and turned off the television. "It's late, Tori."

"It's only midnight."

"Jesus. I'm trying to be polite. Just—stay. You can crash on the couch."

Tori bit down on her lip, and Jade could tell she was unsure of this. She narrowed her eyes at the brunette, until she reluctantly agreed, and then, without another passing glance, retired to her bedroom.

The next morning, Jade caught Tori attempting to sneak out and she suggested they go get breakfast. It went on just about that way for several days. Jade would guilt her into staying with her, and Tori didn't protest.

It wasn't truly that Jade immensely enjoyed the company of the other girl, but although, she'd constantly put up the façade of a loner, she missed being around people. Cat was forever in the company of Robbie, and it somewhat stung Jade to be around couples so in love.

After several days, Tori explained she needed to visit her home and scrounge up some clothes to take back to Jade's.

"Why don't you just get everything?" She suggested, while typing furiously on her laptop.

"Wh—what?" Tori stuttered.

Jade rolled her eyes through the frames of her thick glasses. She set her laptop to the side, and leaned forward. "You've been working part time, saving up for your own place, correct?" She didn't await an answer, or for merely a nod. "You're here constantly. We could split the rent."

"You really want me to move in?" There was a hopeful glint in Tori's chocolate brown irises.

She shrugged in response. "For a little while, maybe 'till you find something better. Interested?" She had taken her computer back into her lap, and continued to type her latest one act play.

Tori nodded. "Yes, very."

Rising her eyes from the screen, she raised an eyebrow. "Just a fair warning: I'm not a good roommate. I can't cook, I don't clean, I drink too much, curse too much, and have _really _loud sex."

She could have sworn she just witnessed Tori gulp. But still, she threw on a smile, murmured a "Still better than my parents," and bounced out the door.

He'd left so much of his shit there-in LA. How was he functioning without all of his flannel? He had originally owned a lot of flannel, more than an average person should ever own plaid flannel button ups, but he had just left so much. _Jesus_. Jade shifted through the endless piles of _Beck _items, ranging from things he had given to her, stuff he had actually owned, and the pile that simply reminded her of him.

There was the occasional night in which she would sleep in a flannel button-up of his. It still had that _Beck _smell, and although she hated herself for it, and refused to admit it, the smell comforted her more than anything truly did these days.

She'd been drifting off into the sweet sensation of sleep, when she'd heard the treacherous sound of that damn theme song. Although she'd only watched the show a series of times, to support him more so than anything, she could detect the harmony anymore. She felt a chill lurch down her spine and immediately shot up.

She was proceeding to ragefully fetch the remote and change the channel, when he suddenly appeared on the screen. Jade's mouth went dry, as she found herself staring deeply into those eyes that she once loved so much. That she still did. She'd ripped the pictures of him around the apartment down; set the frames face down, so that she wasn't forced to have him staring back at her wherever she roamed. But this stare, undeniable. His browns of chocolate possessed her, and suddenly, she felt as if she may hyperventilate.

The show was actually half-way decent. Beck portrayed a sociopathic teenage boy who enjoyed toying with a multitude of girls' hearts. Not too far off from reality. He played both a protagonist and antagonist to himself, getting into an array of shenanigans and dilemmas, only to be solved by the blonde and so utterly perfect best friend of his, that damn costar with the bouncy hair that Jade despised deeply, the one the press raved over the possibility of having a relationship with that stud, Beck Oliver. Jade felt her stomach churn.

It was sickening to think of him with any other woman, with the exception of her.

She recalled when the show had first premiered, a little over a year ago. Instantly, it was a success, especially among teenagers. Ratings sky-rocketed and suddenly, Beck was an overnight celebrity. And suddenly, as his longtime girlfriend, Jade became a bit of one, too.

She remembered that the times together were tarnished frequently by being chased down by various paparazzi, hounding them with various questions, rumors of a wedding, or a hidden pregnancy, or Beck's infidelity, all of which she knew were not true for sure, excluding the latter.

Teenage girls made hate blogs about her, either wanting to be her or to kill her, because of their undying obsession with Beck Oliver. It wasn't as if she could have blamed them, at the time, for she was also under his spell. She actually found the whole thing rather amusing.

The show continued, the Brooklyn boy antagonist hiding within a protagonist with fluffy hair solving his given problem of the week. Although this character could possibly be the polar opposite of Beck in truth, she couldn't help but feel a pang in her heart. Because this boy still had Beck's face, his hair, his _hands,_ and before she could further help herself, his number was dialed on her keypad.

It was nearing 4 in the morning in California, meaning the sun had just begin to rise in the New York skyline, 3 hours ahead of Los Angeles. The dial tone sounded several times in Jade's ear, and she instantly regretted this decision, and blamed it on the half-a-bottle of wine she'd consumed earlier that evening.

Her heart thudded furiously against her frame, and she grasped onto the nearby nightstand to steady herself, hoping he wouldn't answer and would all in the same stressful moment.

And suddenly, a hoarse "Hello?"

Jade felt like she couldn't breathe. Her mouth was so dry, she wasn't entirely sure she was able to speak. Her heartbeat sped, and she felt herself breathing heavier.

"Hello?" She heard a second time, and mentally cursed herself.

_Say something. Anything, _she told herself.

"Hi," she murmured, lamely, and cursed herself once more.

There was a brief silence on the other end of the conversation. She gnawed on her lip, nervously, praying he didn't hang up. But why would he do that?

"Jade?" He asked suddenly, his tone clearer now.

He sounded like he had been sleeping, as if her phone call had awaken him, but he hadn't fully woken up until he experienced the realization that it was his ex-girlfriend on the other line.

She cleared her throat. "Yeah, yeah, it's Jade."

Crickets.

There was silence until she wasn't sure if he had hung up or not. Although this could be a classic war of who was going to speak first, and it was one she wanted to win, she had to clarify. She couldn't help it.

"Beck?"

"Yeah, sorry, I'm still here."

It'd been months since they'd spoken. It felt so surreal to hear his voice, to hear him speaking to her again. She couldn't halt the constant fluttering in her chest that could only be interpreted as butterflies. How cliché she felt.

"Okay." Jade returned, at a loss for words.

She heard a creaking and a shift in movement on the other line, as if Beck were sitting up.

"So-uh, how are you?"

Jade frowned. How the hell did she reply to that? Tell him she was miserable, utterly miserable, that she went to class, physically present, yet mentally absent, and attended work the same way. That the only occurrences that included her leaving her run-down apartment were because of Cat dragging her from the place? That she'd never felt so empty before in her entire life? That she'd had _Tori Vega _move into her apartment, simply because she couldn't stand the idea of constantly being alone? No, she couldn't tell him that. Not when he was living the American Dream, well, Canadian Dream.

"I'm…um, okay, fine, I guess." She stuttered out.

She heard him swallow.

"Yeah, me too."

More silence.

Then, "Why did you call?"

"I wanted to hear your voice," she breathed.

Jade couldn't stifle her honesty. Perhaps it was the alcohol lingering within the confines of her body, or the effect that Beck typically has on her, but she didn't lie this time.

A sigh flooded her ears. She grimaced, realizing the feeling failed to be mutual.

Neither spoke for a moment.

"I miss you, Jade."

She sat, in awe, for a moment, taken aback by his sudden confession. Running shaky hands through her distraught hair, she sat up in bed, her heart racing.

"But I can't miss you, Jade."

She didn't respond. Her breathing hitched.

"I have this great life here. And of course I miss you. _Damn, _do I miss you. But there's no possible way we can be together, not right now, at least. So, I can't think about you—what could be with us. Because, one thought about touching you again, kissing you, and I'm ready to get my ass back on a Red Eye to LA."

There were tears in her eyes now. Suddenly, the boy who was never good with words had taken her breath away, and all she wanted was for him to be in her arms, to be back in their old bed—Hell, even to be back in his microscopic RV, snuggling together in the microscopic twin bed. She just wanted him.

And then, before she could stop herself: "I love you, Beck." Her voice was a stifled, miserable sob.

"Jade, you know that I love you." He whispered into the receiver.

A pause, he cleared his throat, and his voice was stern now.

"But I need you to live your life. I need you to move on from me, and what we had, and be fucking _happy. _Because Jadelyn West, you deserve happiness more than any person I've ever known. And I'm not saying maybe one day, when this show has ended, and you're done with school, and we're in the same city, and still want each other, maybe then. But not now, and you know that, baby, you do."

She nodded, tears streaming down her face. "I do," she breathed.

"Promise me you'll try to be happy. And promise me if you ever feel overwhelmed, or like you can't do this, promise you'll call me."

"I promise."

"Get some sleep, Jade." He cooed.

She hung up on him, and tossed her phone onto the floor. She collapsed back onto the uncomfortable bed, and shifted until she found a somewhat comfortable position.

A waterfall of tears sprung from her heavy eyes now, to the point where her vision was blurred, and her breath became frequent, as she begun to hyperventilate, and felt as if she could no longer breathe, no longer _be. _Thoughts of calling on Tori, who was sleeping on the couch just outside her door, came to mind. But she took out her razor instead.

* * *

**I don't know about this, bleh. Leave me reviews to tell me what you think. **


	3. Chapter 3

The day didn't seem or feel any different than any other passing day. She awoke on time for once, half-heartedly curled her hair and applied her makeup. She awoke her roommate, whose slumber was so intense you'd think she was hibernating, and prepared a light breakfast for the two. She took a seat at her modest kitchen table, smiling in spite of herself, for accomplishing these various tasks all before 9:00 in the morning.

Tori smiled at her knowingly as she stepped into the kitchen, fully clothed. "You made me breakfast." She stated, her face blank.

"Yes, Tori. Very good, Tori." Jade said, sarcastically, taking a vicious bite of her toast.

"I wanted to make you breakfast." She plopped down into the chair, with disappointed eyes, and began to shovel scrambled eggs and toast into her mouth.

Jade put forth a lazy shrug. "That would require one waking up a good thirty minutes before your class starts."

Shooting a glance at the digital clock, Tori gasped, and then proceeded to nearly choke on the food she was focused on chewing. "We've got to go." She choked out.

"Unfortunately." Jade sighed, irritably, and placed their dirtied plates into the overflowing sink.

Jade drove the two in her car, as it made more sense, saves gas and whatnot, and she was a much more skilled driver, although Tori would not admit this last part.

She rounds the parking lot swiftly, pulling around to drop Tori off at the building, in which her summer program class of the day resides. The brunette shifts the contents of her arms wildly, attempting to balance her books in hand, and giant monster purse. She exits the car in shambles, only ducking her head back in to call a "Thank you."

Jade prepares herself to drive away, when Tori clings to the door and forces her head back into the automobile.

"Oh, and Jade?"

She attempts not to roll her eyes at the girl, but it is, indeed, a failed attempt.

"Yes?" She asked, the irritation dripping from her flat tone.

"Happy Birthday," Tori purred, with a smile, before shutting the car door and prancing away.

* * *

Cat had insisted they attend a celebratory lunch, and although Jade made frivolous attempts to get herself out of it, she ultimately gave into the faux redhead. The restaurant, chosen by Cat, of course, was a swanky little outdoor café, cluttered with bored (though extremely rich) housewives, sipping mimosas and gossiping.

The thud of Jade's signature combat boots announced her (somewhat late) arrival. This immediately sparked Cat to life, and her animation was contagious, to seemingly everyone but Jade, that is. Hell, even the waiter seemed to serve them their iced tea gingerly after being within the proximity of the cheerful girl.

Jade, the ever sullen girl, stabbed at her salad with a lazy arm, and hardly said two words. She sipped her iced tea, and listened to Cat's eccentric stories with a lazy ear.

"We're going out tonight, you know." She told her taller friend, matter-of-factly.

Jade huffed. "Of-fucking-course we are."

The petite girl rolled her eyes at Jade. This was incredibly rare.

"_Jade," _her voice was pleading.

Jade, who had already begun to zone out again, arose her glance. "Yes?"

"Would you at least pretend to be a little happy? It's your 21st birthday, after all." Cat countered, adopting a bit of a sing-song voice that reminded Jade far too much of high school.

A long sigh escaped Jade's mouth. All Jade ever seemed to do was sigh or groan or roll her eyes. But, regardless to her obvious displeasure, she promised she would attempt to have a nice time—because she wanted to, not because Cat wanted her to, although both girls wondered if that were true.

* * *

"Oh no," Her voice was sterner than usual, fiercer. "No, no, no, _no." _But just as she attempted to pivot and stalk away, two pairs of clenching hands materialized on either side of her.

"What _the hell?" _She nearly shouted, as Robbie and Andre lifted her into the air and began to drag her closer.

"Don't think I can't fight Robbie off." She continued to ramble, attempting to shake free of his hold. "You wanna lose that arm, Shapiro?" Jade asked, threateningly, in a bit of a snarl.

Cat only sighed. "Jade, this is for your own good. And please, do not threaten my boyfriend."

"Thanks, baby." Muttered a blatantly struggling Robbie.

"You are fucking crazy if you think I am getting in that water, _Caterina!"_ She hissed her best friend's full name, as she writhed in the two boys' arms, who were a hell of whole lot stronger than she would ever admit.

"Jade, would please calm down?" Pleaded an exasperated Tori, walking just behind the immediate trio, by Cat's side.

Cat's idea of a party for Jade had been hosted on the beach, multiple bottles of liquor and a ridiculously large cake with a camp fire to set the mood. Her plan was very precise. She'd get Jade somewhat drunk, and then coax her to go into the water. But what she didn't plan on—was that Jade could be an exponentially angry and spiteful drunk.

"No, Tori! I will not _calm down!_" She shrieked, continuing with her temper tantrum, and Cat was immensely thankful that the beach was empty, with the exception of the gang.

"_Cat!" _Jade screamed, kicking her legs into the air, as they reached the ocean's shore.

"It'll be aiight, Jade." Andre cooed, although he tightened his grip as he did.

She turned to him and shot him her famous glower. "No, it will not be alright!" She hollered in a mocking tone, before redirecting her pleading gaze to her best friend. "Please, Cat, please." The raven haired girl scarcely begged anyone, hardly even used the 'p' word, unless it were coaxed out of her, (usually by her ex-boyfriend).

"Don't make me do this," Jade screeched, and her friends wondered if she was about to cry.

"Cat," Tori suddenly piped up. "Don't you think this is all a bit…_extreme?"_

The redhead propped her arm up to place it in her sun kissed palm. She allowed out yet another resounding sigh. "_Guys, hush." _

She took a few swift steps until she was facing her best friend. The incoming tide brushed the heels of her bare feet. Jade watched as it neared her with wide eyes.

"You know I'm scared of the water," She reminded her through clenched teeth.

Cat frowned at her now, tilting her head to the side, and extending her arms forward to place on Jade's shoulders.

"And you're not even supposed to swim at night! It's when sharks feed, and you can't see _shit_ and the currents and the dolphins—the fucking _dolphins!_ Cat, please, _please, _don't make me do this!"

"Jade, I'm not trying to punish you—"

"-Then this is a sick joke." She cut her off.

Cat jabbed a single finger in the air that halted Jade's mouth. She narrowed her eyes into an angry glare, but she allowed Cat to speak.

"You are twenty one years old now, Jade. If that's not an adult, I don't know what is." And Cat allowed a brilliant smile to spread across her face. "So tonight, Jadelyn West, we will conquer your fear of the ocean."

She could have sworn she witness Jade West gulp.

* * *

They'd gotten her in the water—well, Andre carried her into the water, whilst she pounded on his bare back, kicked her legs viciously and let out a murderous wail. Cat desperately hoped no one was within a five mile radius of the scene, because they would sure as hell call the police reporting an attempted murder.

Once in the ocean, Jade clung to Andre's body like a koala to a tree. "Don't think this means anything, Harris." She would mutter to him. And he would laugh heartily, making some type of "Y'know you wanna get with this, West." comment. He would feel mildly successful as she cracked a small smile.

Cat, Tori, and Robbie also stripped down to their underwear and waded into the shallow water. Robbie was in the middle of an attempted splash fight with the two girls, when Jade felt a flutter against her leg.

She screeched and leapt from Andre's grasp into the air. "Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy _shit!" _

Andre pawed at her body, attempting to steady her, while the others watched in unsure concern.

"Calm down, Jade!" He yelled, as he continued to try and hold her shaking frame still. "It's just a 'lil fish! It won't hurt you!" She was silent for a moment, and rested her head against his shoulder as she caught her breath.

Cat and Robbie simultaneously burst out into laughter at the raven haired girl's panic. Tori and Andre soon joined them.

Jade groaned. "For-fucking real, guys?!" She bellowed. "Has _no one _scene the intro to _Jaws?!"_

* * *

They air dried by the camp fire, shivering, and cursing at Cat for having this planned, but lacking in the department of towels. Cat and Robbie took comfort and warmth within the confines of each other's embrace. Andre kept rubbing his hands up and down Tori's bare arms in an attempt to warm her up.

Jade sat several feet away from them, rubbing her feet beneath the surface of the sand. She liked the way the rocks felt rough against her sensitive skin.

She'd been trying to keep her promise to him. To live her life, to be happy. She stopped drinking as much. She made attempted peace with her father and attended a dinner with him, her stepmother and younger brother once a week. She humored her friends and hung out with them and went to their stupid gatherings. When she was sad, she told Tori about it…sometimes. And she even tried to put the razor away. _Tried._

Her eyes flickered downward and she frowned at her uncovered wrists. Fleshy scars and harsh red scratches. The salt water burned them slightly. No one made comments on them. Not anymore.

It had been months since her and Beck had broken up, and almost one since she'd talked to him. But he never missed her birthday. Never. She, at least, expected a godforsaken text message.

Perhaps that was her problem. Perhaps she should just stop expecting things—because she always got let down.

She had been immersed in her thoughts, and didn't reconnect with reality until she heard the popping of a champagne bottle.

"To Jade!" Cat shouted, after pouring each a plastic wine glass of the foaming beverage.

The group rose their makeshift glasses, and clanked them together, shouting "To Jade!" in unison, and then drank.

"For turning twenty one years old, and blossoming into a beautiful, smart, strong young woman. I know this year has been a lot on you, but just know you're the best friend I've ever had, and I think twenty one will be a kick-ass year for you."

Jade smiled genuinely at her from across the ever glowing embers of the fire.

"And for finally getting her white ass in the water!" Andre shouted, and everyone laughed and cheered. Everyone minus Jade, who frowned over at him and promptly flipped him off.

"And all because of Cat. To Cat." Tori smiled, and they toasted again.

"I can drink to that," Robbie joked and planted a kiss on his girlfriend's cheek. She giggled in response.

"It wasn't the first time I've been in the water." Jade suddenly said.

"We know, we know, 3rd grade, dolphins, overly friendliness," Andre shuddered for show.

But she shook her head. "No." And they all peered at her with obvious interest.

"Sophomore year, Beck—" she paused for a moment, because for some reason it physically _pained_ her to say his name out loud, and she needed a minute to recover, "He got me in the water,"

And her friends witnessed something they didn't expect to see. She smiled at the memory—a large, full smile, with a twinkle in her emerald eyes. And then she laughed, lightly. "I told him I would _castrate _him if he took me in the water—but still, he's an idiot—so, he did it anyway. He threw me over his shoulder and I was screaming so much that the lifeguards came running over, and called the beach police, or whatever." Jade's smile widened, she laughed a short laugh. "And they threatened to arrest him."

Although the rest of the gang didn't truly find the humor in their best friend nearly getting arrested, they faked a laugh for the birthday girl.

* * *

The light drizzle softly punctured the glass of her window. She sat by the window sill, enjoying her favorite weather, typing vigorously on her laptop, revising her latest One Act.

Her apartment door squeaked open, revealing a damp-looking Tori. The girl tossed her tote on the sofa, and began to wring out her wet hair.

"Not on the carpet!" Jade hollered at her. Tori grimaced, before moping to the bathroom. "Jesus, Vega, ever heard of an umbrella?"

She re-emerged from the bathroom in a pair of yoga pants, an over-sized _Hollywood Arts _t-shirt, and hair rolled into a bun atop her head. "Very funny," She noted, plopping down on the couch. "It started _pouring _while I was out. Freak thunder-storm or something."

"That's unfortunate." She said, although she smirked at her, before saving her document and shutting down her laptop.

"Yeah," Tori lamented, collapsing into a horizontal position, haphazardly dangling her feet off the piece of furniture. "I hate the rain."

And the smirk suddenly spread into a smile as Jade gazed out the window and admired the droplets traveling down the large window. "I love it," She told her, tone much softer than usual.

Tori, who had been glum only a mere moment ago, smiled at her kind-of-friend turned room-mate. "You _love _the rain?" She asked, a cockiness emerging from her typically meek voice. "Never thought I'd see the day when _Jade West openly_ admitting that she loves things."

Jade shook her head, and her smile disappeared. "Yeah, well, rain is pretty fucking fantastic."

"I don't see how," Tori disagreed, rising up to pop her back in two swift moments. The cracks filled the air and Jade gave her an appraising—where others would probably be disgusted—look. "It's wet, and cold sometimes, and it's hard to drive in, and it's just—blech."

But the raven haired beauty just smiled her knowing smile and shook her head at the half Latina. "You don't understand." Her emerald eyes lit up. "Rain is just—it's perfect. The way it smells. The way it sounds beating against your window in the dead of night—like a lullaby, or something. And dancing in it, like a _fucking _fool, and everyone looks at you like your crazy, but you just don't care. And your hair is soaked. And your clothes are sticking to your body. And you'll probably get pneumonia. But it's worth it. It's so refreshing, and cleansing, and beautiful. Rain is worth the stickiness. And the pneumonia. And the crazy looks. It just—is."

Jade had lost herself in memories. Memories of her and her mom when she was a child. They would have picnics on the kitchen floor on rainy days. But Jade always found herself begging to go outside—to play in the rain. And her mother would eventually give in and join her. Memories of Beck passed through her head. He loved the rain, too. Scenes of their cliché rain dancing trailed through her mind, and she found herself smiling like a fool.

Tori's voice broke her from her thoughts, and swept her back into present day—into realty.

"You know how they say that someone becomes so much more beautiful when they're talking about something they're passionate about? Well, it's true."

And Jade rolled her eyes, but flashed a small smile, regardless. One that she attempted to hide. "Oy, with the cheesiness."

* * *

It wasn't far into the summer when local theatres had agreed to produce Jade's plays. She'd immediately enveloped herself into her work. She directed them, of course. She would never sell her plays. They were the closest thing she'd ever had to "babies," as she so often referred to them.

_Well Wishes _had become a favorite of the immediate public. She'd put it on at various theatres. And she was constantly told by "fans" or random people who approached her post-performance, which was often, that it was the most famous of her shows. And she was glad. She wanted this: the success. It felt good.

She'd disappeared to an alley she found through the back-door of the current theatre _Well Wishes _was debuting at, in an attempt to avoid all the compliments and harassment. It just wasn't her thing—appraisal—although , you'd think it would be.

She pulled a pack of Marlboro Red's from her messenger bag, and stuck one between her lips. Typically, she preferred Menthol cigarettes, but Beck always smoked Red's, so she often found herself craving those rather than her cigarette of choice.

She was the essential reason he'd started smoking—actually. He'd always found it to be a disgusting habit, as his father was a two pack a day smoker. But something about jumping resident's of Hollywood's fences to use their Jacuzzi and smoke cigarettes with Jade West their freshman year of high school made it worth it. Wasting Friday nights with her and reeking of cigarette smoke was enough to develop a habit within him.

Jade felt dangerous when she would smoke back then. Something about holding something that killed millions a year between her lips made her feel powerful. But perhaps that was simply her fourteen year old ignorance and narcissism.

Now, she smoked only for the comfort of the familiar smell—or to steady her nerves, or whichever. Her anxiety built up so high sometimes and it felt as if the only thing that would calm her down was a cigarette. Maybe that's why she was constantly mutilating her skin.

As she lit up, she felt a presence in the alley and immediately tensed as a male approached her.

"I really enjoyed your play," an English accent flared as an attractive dark featured man stepped into the glow of the streetlight. He looked to be in his mid-twenties.

"Thanks," Jade returned, disinterested, flicking the ash to the pavement.

"Mind if I bum a fag?"

"Kind of." She told him, sourly, and he smirked at her.

The man pulled a pack from his jacket pocket. "Not to worry. I have my own. Was just tryin' to…bond."

"I'm good. Not really lookin' to… _bond." _ Jade replied, snidely, but the British man simply laughed, as he lit his cigarette.

They smoked in silence for several moments, before he spoke up again.

"I actually… am a producer." He admitted, flicking his cigarette butt to the pavement, and stepping forward with an extended hand, "Aiden Thornesmith."

Jade's eyebrows immediately arose, in surprise, as she, too flicked her butt to the street floor. "Thornesmith…as in Mason Thornesmith?"

The man—Aiden—too displayed a look of surprise. "Yes, uh, that's my father. Heard of him?"

"Met him. And your little brother. Well—kind of." She corrected herself.

He narrowed his irritatingly gorgeous eyes. "How—might I ask?"

Jade gazed into the night air for a moment, biting her lower lip gently. "Almost sang at the 2012 Platinum Music Awards, but then didn't, then my kind-of friend almost sold his puppet to your brother—but, didn't?"

A crease appeared between his eyebrows as he attempted to understand just what it was she was saying. "It's a very long, complicated, and…just plain _fucking weird _story."

And Aiden smiled at her, though the crease had yet to disappear. "I do enjoy very long, complicated, and just plain fucking weird stories, you know. And I do feel the need to point out that Francis? He's my half-brother. _Very _different mothers, him and I."

Jade smirked, but it quickly disappeared. "So, Aiden Thornesmith, why is it that you followed me into this very dark alley?"

He arose a finger, with a smile. "Ah, yes. Jadelyn West, of Los Angeles. Former student at Hollywood Arts Performing High School. Current student at CSULA. And might I say, _fucking _fantastic playwright."

She shrugged, although displayed no indication of impression. "That is correct."

"And one of these plays, _Well Wishes, _is very fucking fantastic. And I'd like to bring it to Broadway."

Jade frowned now. "I'm not looking to sell."

"I'm not looking to buy."

She narrowed her eyes at him, "What are you—"

He smirked a knowing smirk at her, sticking a second cigarette between his lips, and taking an agitating amount of time to light it.

"I don't have all night." Jade told him, tapping her combat boot-ed foot for effect.

A long drag, and then a large cloud of smoke assaulted Jade's air. She rolled her eyes, blatantly impatient.

He chuckled at the raven haired girl, with a shake of his head. "You're a spunky one, Jade West, you know that?" She raised her eyebrows at him, expectantly and crossed her arms across her chest, awaiting him to carry on.

"Along with your extensively impressive resume, which I also noticed you are a remarkable singer, songwriter, and actress, by the way, you are an impressive director."

She examined her chipped black nails, seemingly bored. "Go on," she commanded, noticing his pause.

"I couldn't imagine doing this play with any other director."

Finally, he had received her attention. She gazed up at him with wide eyes.

"You don't mean…" She found her quiet voice trailing off.

He smiled a smug smile. "I want you to come to New York with me to direct this _masterpiece." _

Jade immediately felt her breath hitch. She'd received offers before, yeah, but none as extravagant as this. _None_ like this. She knew well within the depths of her mind that this could make her career. But she kept an uninterested front, afraid to seem unsure.

A small voice in her head that she somewhat hated piped up, reminded her what was in New York, _who _ was in New York. That the true and final reason behind the breakup had to do quite a bit with where they were located.

"I can't just drop _everything _and go to New York." Her voice arose in a snarky tone. "I have a life here. I live here."

The smile never faded from his face. He handed her what looked to be an extremely crumpled and tattered business card. "Think about it, Jade West. Call me. Anytime."

And with that, as quickly as he had appeared, he disappeared into the night air.

* * *

She didn't call him. Not at first, at least.

Because, although it may not appear that way to the naked eye, she did have a life in Los Angeles.

She had school here. A part time job at the record store. An apartment, a room-mate, friends. Her father and little brother resided in Los Angeles.

But was all that really worth giving up her dream?

It certainly wasn't for Beck. He wasn't about to give up his dreams for anyone. But she never blamed him for that. How the hell could she?

Her decision to go to New York was essentially made by Cat Valentine.

* * *

She received the call one Saturday afternoon.

Tori had gone out to a late lunch with Andre on the scorching summer day. Jade had been asked to join them, but denied the invitation. She wasn't feeling all that people-y that day. She didn't feel all that people-y the majority of her days.

Clad in short denim shorts and a miniscule bikini top, she sat on her terrace, lazily smoking a cigarette and sipping on iced coffee. She liked to peer over the balcony and watch the populated streets below buzz. Ever so often, she would tip the cup gently and allow a bit of liquid to spill and splatter onto the hot pavement. For some reason, she found it immensely entertaining.

The faint ringing of her cell phone from inside the apartment caught her attention. She quickly stabbed her cigarette out and dashed inside to retrieve it.

Without checking the Caller ID, Jade pressed the _Talk _button.

"Hello?" She asked, slightly out of breath.

"Jadelyn." The voice on the other end of the line nearly caused her to groan.

Mr. West was all business. Always had been. He was a wonderful business man. Even with his first born and only daughter. Jade wasn't even allowed a millisecond to respond before he began his spiel.

She remembers that day so well in the back of her mind each time she looks back to reflect—more likely, cringe—on it, but for the life of her she can't recall any disappointment in his voice when he reported to her that Cat had called him and confessed her worry regarding Jade. Years will pass and Jadelyn West will still be able to pinpoint her father's exact words, as he discussed how much she drank, how she continually cut herself, how she was and-quote out of control. But she was never able to summon remembrance of any ounce of sadness in his voice. Perhaps that was because there was none. Merely annoyance at her troubles, as if it were some inconvenience.

In the midst of his speech, she'd wandered back out onto the terrace, and, not allowing him to finish speaking, or say anything in return, she calmly dropped her Pear Phone over the edge and watched with a blank expression as it shattered into pieces on the fervent pavement.

* * *

Cat Valentine had taken advantage of the feverish Saturday afternoon to make smoothies and watch movies in her air-conditioned apartment with her boyfriend, Robbie Shapiro.

She hoist her sun-kissed bare legs over his pale and thin ones, and lay her head back on the burgundy sofa as they sipped their frozen beverages and skimmed through their extensive John Hughes film collection, simply indulging in the other's company.

It was always simple with those two. Not necessarily in the beginning, how they idly flirted for years before mustering up the courage to admit their feelings to one another. But everything else was. At first, Cat deemed it wrong—not normal. She'd always witnessed the constant bickering of her parents, of her best friend and her longtime boyfriend, so the simplicity had seemed ill-placed to the redhead at the time. But Robbie assured her relationships didn't have to be complicated, that they shouldn't be complicated, and Cat would wonder absent mindedly if she really knew anything about love at all—if every example she had ever been presented had been a lie. But she didn't read too much into it.

They were half-way into Sixteen Candles and Molly Ringwald was settled into her living room couch ranting to her father about Jake Ryan, and Cat was beaming at the heart warming moment as Robbie paid little attention to a movie he had seen too many times and traced gentle circles into his girlfriend's legs, when a determined knock on the door suddenly boomed through the quiet apartment.

Cat and Robbie both jolted, in surprise, but quickly recovered from the change in pace. Cat peeled her sweaty leg off of Robbie's with a giggle, and raced to the door.

She didn't expect an outraged Jade West on the other end.

"What the hell, Cat?!" She demanded as she stormed into the quaint one bedroom.

Cat quickly stumbled out of her best friend's way, startled. Her eyebrows immediately crumpled. "Jade." She tried to smile. Her pink lips lifted in attempt, but the deep brown regret in her eyes gave her away. She couldn't play stupid. Not anymore. She knew what this was about.

"Seriously, Cat! What in the _fuck?!"_ The raven haired girl screeched, throwing her white fists into the cool air.

Robbie turned around at the commotion, and immediately jumped up from the couch—when he realized said commotion was an angry Jade—and rushed over to the scene to be sure she didn't injure his girlfriend, although he wasn't sure how much help he would be if the girl decided to get violent. But Jade wouldn't hurt Cat. They were best friends. Right? The used-to-be nerd quickly decided not to take his chances ,and stepped in front of the petite redhead, crossing his arms in the process.

"What's going on?" He asked, lowering his voice purposely in a sad attempt to seem threatening. Jade noticed, and quickly scoffed before regaining her anger.

"Ask your _girlfriend."_ Jade growled, watching as Cat—who was still shielded by Robbie—frowned deeply, the guilt obvious on her features.

"I-I," Cat stuttered, from behind the curly haired boy. "Don't be mad, Jade, okay? Just let me explain first."

A roll of her eyes and then, a prompt cross of her arms. "Fine." She hissed, then glared at Robbie. "But I don't want _him_ here."

Robbie didn't bother to act offended. Jade had made it clear she never withheld any desire to be his friend. He'd had some deluded thoughts that Cat and him becoming official may change that, and convinced himself that he wasn't disappointed when it never happened, that it was to be expected, that he was used to it.

But he would be lying if he said it hadn't stung. That Jade had insisted on hating Tori for _years _in high school, and now they were roommates, when Robbie had known Jade since the first day of kindergarten and she continued to act as if he was the least relevant thing on the Earth. He wasn't even good enough for Jade to hate.

So Robbie dismissed himself and went to wander the halls of their apartment building. He had meant to distance himself from the girls, but found he was still within the radius of their hostile screaming at one another—well, Jade's hostile screaming and Cat's apologetic wails of _"I'm sorry"_ or _"What was I supposed to do?!" _and the most heartbreaking one _"Jadey! No! Please! I love you!" _

Without intentional motives of eavesdropping, he had slowly found himself wavering closer and closer back to his apartment. He paced the hall, straining his ears to make out their words, before surrendering to his curiosity and shamefully pressing his ear against the door.

"_Jade, I was worried about you, okay? We all were. I didn't mean to—"_

"_Wait, wait, wait, so you all have been talking about me? You've ALL been worried?"_

There was a pause and Robbie could distinguish the sound of Cat's gentle sobs, her sufficient sniffles. The quiet moment didn't last long though.

"_Wa-was Tori? Is she worried about me like all of you?"_

"_It's not like anyone was betraying you, Jade. We weren't talking bad about you, okay? We're worried about you because we love you."_

"_Well, you don't fuck over people you love, Cat."_

"_I wasn't…. I wasn't doing that to you. I wouldn't do that to you."_

"_Jesus, Cat! Can you stop being a child for two fucking minutes?! We're not thirteen anymore, okay? You're an adult. You can say 'fuck.' You don't have to cry when you think you're getting in trouble. You can have a serious conversation. If you're worried about your friend, you don't call their mommy and daddy! You fucking confront them."_

"_I-I'm sorry, okay?! I'm sorry." _

"_You know what my Dad said, Cat?! He told me I was becoming just like my mom, asked if I needed to get professional help. He said if I keep this shit up, he would admit me."_

Cat was getting more and more difficult to hear. All he could make out was muffled sobs, and repetitive _"I'm sorry's,"_

"_Just mind your business, okay? I'm fine. I don't need you looking out for me."_

"_I just…" _Sniffle. _"Don't want you…"_ Sob. _"To hurt yourself anymore, Jadey."_

Robbie expected a cruel response. But instead, he heard quiet sobs that he didn't recognize. It took him a few moments before he realized they were coming from Jade.

No one spoke for several minutes, and Robbie began to wonder if he should move, if he should back away from the door before it was revealed he was listening in on them, but then Jade spoke again, and her voice sounded sober, clear, as if she hadn't been crying. And Robbie stood in disbelief, worrying that he had imagined it.

"_Look, I have to go."_

"_Wait, you should stay. We could talk." _

"_There's nothing to talk about."_

"_But I—I'm worried about you."_

"_I don't need you to worry about me. I don't need anyone, okay?"_

Cat's voice sounded brighter now, as if she were dabbling in optimism, to shed some light on the conversation. Good ol' Cat. "_Everyone needs their best friend." _

"_Yeah, well, I don't." _

Jade replied, coldly, and suddenly, before Robbie could realize, she was moving towards the door, she had opened it, and was glaring at him, and then shoving past him, and his girlfriend was in a ball, sobbing on their living room floor, the end of _Sixteen Candles _playing in the background.

* * *

Several weeks later, Jade and Tori lay in Jade's bed, sharing a bottle of whiskey, and watching and old re-run of _Full House _on mute. Angry looking red numbers flashed _4:23 A.M._ from Jade's nightstand.

"I'm gonna tell you something funny." A somewhat drunk Jade smiled, as she gulped down a drink of whiskey, tipping the bottle back.

A somewhat tipsy Tori smiled. "Okay. Tell me something funny."

Jade paused for a moment, taking yet another sip before passing the bottle to Tori. "Okay," she motioned towards the television.

"_Full House," _she began to laugh, like someone who's telling a joke but bursts into giggles before sharing the punchline because simply thinking about it is just _too damn funny._ "Was Beck's favorite show." And she begins to laugh hysterically, throwing her head back, and clenching her gut, as the tipsy brunette laughs several short laughs.

And Jade realizes she really isn't even laughing at her ex-boyfriend's lame-ness, that his favorite show was just so _cliché. _And she wasn't even really laughing at the fact that, over time—throughout their relationship—the show had grown on her, and now she even _enjoyed _it.

But it was the fact that the mere thought of Beck's name and bringing up his favorite show left a prominent stabbing feeling within the cage that was her chest, that she hadn't talked to Beck in seventeen weeks and her best friend in three—for some reason, it was all just so damn humorous. It was just so fucking funny.

But then it wasn't. And her booming laughter ceased. And they ran out of whiskey. And then, she just felt empty again.

"When I was a kid, my dad used to tell me this story."

Jade was almost certain Tori was asleep, but for some reason, the silence was starting to get to her, so she allowed her voice to fill the air, even if no one was conscious to hear it.

"It was about this kid—I think he lived on a farm, or something, I don't know—anyway, he was out in the fields one day and his Dad told him not to move, and he listened to him."

She stopped talking. Even in her drunken state, she realized that the way she was talking to herself resembled her in a somewhat batshit manner. It wasn't until she decided she should probably try for sleep, when Tori quietly lolled, "Go on."

Jade re-opened her eyes on cue, and complied. "And uh, his Dad shot something by the kid's feet, and it was, like, a rattlesnake, and if the kid hadn't have listened, if he would have asked his Dad 'Why', he could have died."

"That's kind of a morbid story." And although her back was to Jade, the raven haired girl heard the smile in her voice.

"Yeah, uh, the moral of the story being you should listen to your parents. You shouldn't ask why. And I got that, I did. But for some reason," Jade stopped for a moment, and smiled, shaking her head, and Tori rolled over to face her with half-open eyes. "All I ever replied was: 'But Dad, we don't even live on a farm.'" She laughed, snidely, shaking her head at the memory. "And he would just _ogle _at me, so annoyed and—I don't know—like, disappointed at my stubbornness?"

Tori stared at her, as she studied the popcorn ceiling, fiddled her thumbs that rested on her stomach, as tears began to develop in her eyes.

"And that's how I always was with Beck. I never acted like I got it. I just—I mean—I never told him how much I loved him. I was just stubborn. And sometimes, I just…I wonder if my Dad knew that I got it, that I was just being a little shit."

The tears began to roll down her flushed cheeks now, and Tori wanted to reach out—to hug her, hold hr hand, something—but for some reason, she felt paralyzed.

"And I wonder if Beck knew when I said 'I know' after he told me he loved me that I was just being a smartass because I was always so scared of anything real, of anything honest…because I'm just so _fucked up _that I have to fuck everything up."

Tori still didn't say anything. She just lies there, and stares at her friend, with a troubled expression, wishing she knew what to say, what to do. But instead, she stares at her with now wide brown eyes, feeling helpless. She always felt helpless when Hurricane Jade cried. Everyone did.

Jade recovered a moment later, shifting emotions at the snap of a finger, and wiped all of her stray tears away. She turned to look at Tori, and they stared at one another until the red in Jade's emerald eyes turned clear once more.

"I'm going to New York." Jade said, finally.

"And I want you to come with me." She told her, before turning her back to the girl and drifting away to sleep without one more word.

* * *

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and taking a liking to the story. You guys are grand, really.**

**Sorry this took so long to update. Hope you guys liked it.**

**Please keep leaving me reviews letting me know what you think/what you liked/what you didn't/what ripped your fucking heart out/ya know, that sort of shit. **

**Anyway, this story will probably end up being a tad bit longer than I originally said.**

**I have quite a bit to tell. Hope ya don't mind. -insert creepy winky face here-**


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